UC-NRLF 


EDITED  BY  HENRY  SUZZALLO 

PRESIDENT   OF  THK   UNIVERSITY   OF   WASHINGTON,   SEATTLE 

THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

AN  ESSAY  IN  EDUCATION  AS  AN 
iESTHETIG  PROCESS 


BY 

HERMAN  HARRELL  HORNE,  Ph.D. 

PROFESSOR   OF   THE   HISTORY   OF   EDUCATION   AND 
THE  HISTORY  OF  PHILOSOPHY,   NEW  YORK  UNIVERSITY 


HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN   COMPANY 

BOSTON,   NEW   YORK   AND  CHICAGO 


HT 


COPYRIGHT,  1917,  BY  HERMAN  HARRELL  HORNB 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 

iDtlCATION  DEPT^^ 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U  .   S  .   A 


PREFACE 

In  the  following  pages  the  first  essay  raises  the 
question  whether  the  art  of  teaching  may  in  a 
measure  become  one  of  the  fine  arts,  and  answers 
in  the  affirmative,  under  certain  conditions. 
What  these  conditions  are  the  second  essay  at- 
tempts to  set  forth.  Though  the  aesthetic  experi- 
ence is  complex  and  difficult  to  analyze,  I  have 
endeavored  to  be  as  intelligible  as  the  subject 
itseK  allows,  having  in  mind  busy  teachers  who 
have  neither  the  time  nor  the  inclination  to 
puzzle  over  unnecessary  difficulties. 

That  the  standard  here  set  up  for  the  teaching 
process  is  high,  perhaps  too  high  for  general  at- 
tainment yet  awhile,  is  admitted;  yet  we  may 
steer  by  the  stars.  My  idealistic  writings  on  edu- 
cation have  been  criticized  for  lifting  the  stand- 
ards too  high,  "putting  the  teacher  on  a  pedes- 
tal," and  seeing  philosophical  significance  in 
"mere  pedagogy."  The  charge  is  well  founded 
iii 


Ml.74793 


PREFACE 

—  unless  you  who  read,  having  the  eternal 
perfection  in  your  hearts,  prove  otherwise  by 
your  beautiful  work  in  shaping  individuals  and 
society. 


H.  H.  H. 


Leonia,  New  Jersey 
October  1916 


CONTENTS 

Editor's  Introduction vii 

I.    Is  TEAcmNG  A  Fine  Art? i 

II.    The  Shriving  op  an  Inartistic  Teacher  .  39 

References      59 

OUTUNE 61 


EDITOR'S  INTRODUCTION 

There  are  many  teachers  who  are  good  artisans; 
there  are  only  a  few  who  are  fine  artists.  All 
teachers  who  are  successful  enough  to  hold  their 
appointments  possess  the  useful  power  to  trans- 
form human  nature  so  that  it  is  better  informed, 
more  moral,  and  more  effectively  active  than 
before.  But  the  process  by  which  these  valuable 
results  are  brought  about  may  have  been  more  or 
less  mechanical  and  quite  unpleasing  to  the 
pupil.  The  pupil  himself,  well  informed,  thought- 
ful, and  dynamic,  may  not  be  a  wholesome  and 
attractive  personality.  The  process  and  the 
product  of  the  finely  artistic  teacher  are  vastly 
different.  He  teaches,  he  is  inspiring  and  genial, 
•  and  those  who  study  and  labor  under  his  guid- 
ance do  so  with  spontaneity  and  affection.  The 
men  and  women  he  rears  are  more  than  strong 
and  forceful,  learned  and  skillful;  they  are  har- 
moniously developed  personalities,  wholesome 
and  charming,  for  whom  "the  world  steps  aside" 
vii 


EDITOR'S  INTRODUCTION 

r 

more  than  half  the  time.  The  fine  artist  in  the 
classroom  differs  from  the  mere  artisan  in  more 
things  than  degree  of  ability.  There  is  a  differ- 
ence both  of  aim  and  of  method. 

There  was  an  older  type  of  education  that 
made  of  every  man  it  touched  the  scholar  and 
gentleman.  Too  often  our  newer  t)^e  of  school 
training  makes  only  the  scholar  and  omits  the 
gentleman.  It  is  the  blend  of  the  two  at  which 
the  truly  artistic  teacher  aims.  However  narrow 
the  field  of  study  may  seem  to  be,  this  master 
pursues  his  specialty  with  a  reverent  regard  for 
relationships  and  settings.  He  gives  a  liberal 
education  in  a  single  course.  His  treatment  is 
specialized  but  never  narrowing.  Into  the  class- 
room he  brings  a  character  as  well  as  a  mind. 
He  conveys  both  values  and  truths.  In  him 
there  is  no  forgetfulness  of  the  man,  the  gentle- 
man, in  whom  the  trained  mind  is  to  reside. 
While  his  direct  and  obvious  business  is  to  make 
a  thinker,  he  never  forgets  the  more  important 
obligation  of  training  character.  His  objective 
is  nothing  less  than  the  making  of  a  wholesome, 
attractive,  and  admirable  personality,  which 
viii 


EDITOR'S  INTRODUCTION 

reveals  no  inconsistency,  no  lack  of  balance,  no 
want  of  charm.  His  artistic  and  pedagogic  aim 
is  to  produce  a  beautiful  character. 

As  the  ends  toward  which  we  mould  human 
nature  differ,  so  the  processes  of  achievement 
vary.  The  fine  artist  at  teaching  has  a  technique 
different  from  that  of  any  ordinary  teacher.  To 
begin  with  he  has  a  keen  regard  for  the  individu- 
ality of  his  products.  He  handles  each  boy  and 
girl  with  a  particular  care  which  takes  into 
account  personal  traits.  For  this  reason  he  is 
versatile  in  the  ways  and  means  of  his  craft.  His 
teaching  life  seldom  seems  to  repeat  itself. 
Every  moment,  every  topic,  every  human  mood 
is  a  new  challenge  to  his  resourcefulness.  His  is 
a  life  of  adventure,  in  which  there  is  nothing  of 
the  dull  repetition,  the  monotony,  and  the 
routine  of  which  so  many  instructors  complaiu. 
Each  youth  is  still  true  to  himself  when  such  a 
teacher  is  done  with  his  instruction.  The  educa- 
tional machine,  with  its  uniform  disregard  for  va- 
riations in  materials  and  its  passion  for  making 
all  human  units  copies  of  one  another,  cannot 
exist  in  a  company  of  artistic  teachers. 
ix 


EDITOR'S  INTRODUCTION 

The  teacher  of  whom  we  speak  is  a  sym- 
pathetic interpreter.  An  idealist  he  is,  trying  to 
realize  his  ideals  in  human  substance;  but  he  has 
a  fine  regard  for  what  is  human.  The  acade- 
mician and  the  pedant  are  unlovely  products 
in  his  eyes.  He  tolerates  human  imperfection 
rather  than  wrench  youth  too  far  from  its  in- 
stinctive bases.  His  is  the  art,  not  of  making  a 
new  kind  of  man,  but  of  improving  the  one  he 
finds.  He  accentuates  whatever  virtues  he  finds, 
and  softens  the  weaknesses,  leaving  in  our  pres- 
ence an  old  and  familiar  friend  whom  we  find 
more  admirable  and  companionable  than  be- 
fore. There  is  something  finely  tolerant  about 
such  a  worker  in  human  stuff.  He  is  as  far  as  can 
be  from  that  fanaticism  which  would  overpower 
every  pupil's  soul  and  make  it  like  the  school- 
master's. 

The  artist's  ways  are  interesting.  He  keeps  his 
students  open-eyed.  He  is  as  sure  of  purpose  as 
any  old-fashioned  martinet,  but  he  does  not 
drive.  He  stimulates,  he  suggests,  he  exemplifies. 
His  methods  are  patient  and  roundabout,  but 
the  speed  he  puts  in  his  pupils  more  than  com- 


EDITOR'S  INTRODUCTION 

pensates  for  the  length  of  the  route  taken.  His 
workshop  in  mid-process  does  not  seem  as  tidy 
as  one  might  expect;  but  his  job  is  the  neatest  in 
the  end.  The  children  are  forever  making  mis- 
takes as  they  try  themselves  out.  The  artist- 
teacher  is  unabashed  regardless  of  the  number  of 
visitors  who  see  the  incompleteness  of  each  step. 
He  will  get  the  perfect  result  he  wants  in  the 
end  —  a  man  or  a  woman  poised,  thoughtful, 
kindly,  and  sure.  He  will  have  given  his  own  love 
of  high  values,  clear  thinking,  and  forceful  action 
to  his  wards.  Against  any  imperfection  he  has 
left  with  them,  he  has  given  them  the  power  to 
grow  forever.  His  creativeness  has  been  dynamic. 
The  teacher  who  sets  out  upon  the  duty  of 
teaching  young  men  and  women  the  fine  art  of 
living,  must  himself  be  an  artist  at  living.  Cul- 
ture is  his  scholarship.  In  addition  he  must  be  an 
artist  at  transmitting  life.  Personality  is  the 
instrument  for  conveying  his  message.  Let  every 
aspiring  teacher  who  is  not  afraid  of  a  difficult 
and  a  subtle  task  be  a  student  of  fine  artistry. 
Its  general  laws  will  offer  more  than  one  rich 
suggestion. 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

Teaching  as  a  physical  process 

That  teaching  is  a  physical  process,  when  re- 
garded from  a  certain  point  of  view,  is  admitted. 
Teachers  make  use  of  their  own  bodies,  of  the 
bodies  of  their  pupils,  of  sound  waves,  of  ether 
vibrations,  of  schoolrooms,  books,  and  appara- 
tus. Indeed,  the  physical  aspects  of  good  teach- 
ing have  come  into  great  prominence  recently  in 
the  way  of  school  hygiene,  medical  inspection, 
dietetics,  and  care  for  heating,  lighting,  ventila- 
tion, as  well  as  exterior  and  interior  decoration. 

Teaching  as  an  intellectual  process 

That  teaching  is  an  intellectual  process  also, 
none  will  care  to  deny.  Indeed,  from  the  modem 
historical  standpoint,  teaching  since  the  Renais- 
sance in  Europe  has  been  mainly  an  intellectual 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

process,  with  emphasis  placed  on  the  getting  of 
knowledge,  first  of  the  humanities,  then  of  the 
sciences,  and  finally  of  society.  From  this  stand- 
point "to  teach"  is  synon)anous  with  to  instruct, 
to  inform,  to  communicate  or  awaken  ideas.  To 
regard  the  end  of  teaching  as  either  knowledge, 
or  the  ability  to  think,  or  both,  is  to  emphasize 
the  intellectual  element  involved  in  it. 

Teaching  as  a  personal  process 

That  teaching  is  also  a  moral,  a  personal,  a 
spiritual  process,  we  must  also  admit,  for  the 
teacher  is  an  influential  person  and  the  pupils  are 
susceptible  persons,  and  in  teaching  there  is  an 
interchange  of  personality  between  teacher  and 
taught,  as  well  as  the  exchange  of  ideas.  The 
elusive  and  intangible  and  not  the  least  impor- 
tant results  of  teaching  belong  to  it  as  a  personal 
process.  Where  professionalism  enters  teaching, 
this  personal  aspect  enters  least. 

Is  teaching  also  an  cesthetic  process? 

But  is  teaching  also  an  aesthetic  process?  Or, 
is  it  capable  of  becoming  such?  That  is  our  pres- 

2 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

ent  question.  It  may  be  admitted  at  the  outset 
that  often,  perhaps  usually,  teaching  is  neither  a 
thing  of  beauty  nor  a  joy  forever. 

We  are  not  now  concerned  to  ask  whether 
teaching  essentially  is  a  physical,  or  intellectual, 
or  personal,  or  aesthetic  process,  —  perhaps  it  is 
essentially  a  personal  process,  —  but  only  to  ask 
whether  teaching  is,  at  least  potentially,  an 
aesthetic  process. 

De  Quincey^s  Essay  on  Murder 

The  most  humorous  and  the  most  ironical  of 
the  writings  of  Thomas  De  Quincey  is  his  Essay 
on  Murder  considered  as  one  of  the  Fine  Arts.  De 
Quincey's  serio-comic  genius  could  no  doubt  have 
succeeded  equally  well  with  our  topic.  If  murder 
may  be  regarded  as  a  fine  art,  we  may  imagine 
him  asking,  why  not  teaching  even  more  so?  For 
the  murderer  can  at  most  destroy  only  the  body, 
but  the  teacher  can  maim,  aye  destroy,  even  the 
soul.  But,  lacking  the  genius  of  De  Quincey,  we 
must  omit  the  comic  element  in  the  treatment 
and  consider  only  seriously  the  possibility  of 
teaching  being  or  even  becoming  a  fine  art.  In 
3 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

his  fascinating  discussion  De  Quincey  proceeded 
by  examples,  considering  different  instances  of 
murder  from  the  aesthetic  standpoint;  but  our 
serious  mode  of  treatment  will  require  us  to  pro- 
ceed by  principles.  The  discussion  will  lead  us 
into  several  matters  concerning  art,  in  relation  to 
each  of  which  we  can  test  teaching  as  a  candidate 
for  membership  in  the  circle  of  the  arts. 

The  nature  of  art 

To  begin  with,  what  is  art?  Professor  Tufts  ^ 
defines  art  as  "  any  activity  or  production  involv- 
ing intelligence  and  skill."  This  definition  per- 
mits us  to  contrast  art  with  three  other  things, 
namely,  unskillful  production,  science,  and  a 
work  of  nature. 

Unskilled  labor  and  art 

An  unskillful  activity,  such  as  carrying  a  hod 
of  brick,  stands  in  contrast  with  such  a  skillful 
activity  as  bricklaying;  and  bricklaying  again 
stands  in  contrast  with  such  a  highly  skillful 

1  J.  H.  Tufts,  article  "Art  and  Art  Theories"  in  Baldwin's 
Dictionary  of  Philosophy  and  Psychology. 

4 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

activity  as  designing  a  brick  house.  Even  the 
hod-carrier  may  develop  a  certain  skill  in  han- 
dling his  burden  in  the  easiest  way.  A  group  of 
laborers  hammering  steel  drills  in  a  quarry  show 
additional  skill  when  they  beat  out  a  rhythm. 

Science  and  art 

In  contrast  with  science,  which  is  knowledge, 
an  art  is  action.  In  science,  the  intellect  is  pri- 
marily involved;  in  art,  the  will.  In  science,  truth 
is  our  goal;  in  art,  performance  of  some  kind.  It 
is  true  that  this  contrast  is  not  absolute,  for 
there  is  no  science  without  the  will  to  know  and 
there  is  no  art  without  the  intellect,  as  the  defini- 
tion itself  indicates. 

Nature  and  art 

The  third  contrast  is  between  art  and  a  work  of 
nature.  Art  begins  with  some  modification  or 
even  copy  of  nature.  That  plants  should  grow  is 
a  work  of  nature,  that  they  should  be  made  to 
grow  in  systematic  groupings  according  to  the 
color  of  their  flowers  is  a  work  of  man,  is  an  art. 
The  products  of  nature,  the  stone,  the  crystal, 
5 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

the  snow-flake,  the  mountains,  the  ocean,  the 
clouds  driven  by  the  wind,  science  supposes,  per- 
haps incorrectly,  to  involve  neither  intelligence 
nor  skill  in  their  making;  the  products  of  man, 
the  stone  hammer,  the  mirror,  the  house,  the 
boat,  the  sail,  the  engine,  the  telegraph,  the  air- 
ship, require  both  intelligence  and  skill.  The  arts 
of  civilization  thus  stand  in  contrast  with  the 
works  of  nature.  When  teachers  of  arts  —  e.g.,  of 
expression  —  urge  that  their  pupils  "be  natural,'* 
"follow  nature,"  etc.,  the  injunction  is  ambigu- 
ous; to  do  so  literally  would  cancel  all  art;  what  is 
really  meant  is  to  be  so  artful  as  to  conceal  the 
appearance  of  art.  "To  be  natural"  in  any  art  is 
not  to  be  as  nature  is,  but  to  be  as  nature  ought 
to  be  to  satisfy  man's  purpose. 

Colvin^s  definition  of  art 

Another  definition  of  art  at  this  point  may  help 
us.  Professor  Colvin  ^  defines  art  as  "every  reg- 
ulated operation  or  dexterity  by  which  organized 
beings  pursue  ends  which  they  know  beforehand, 

*  Sidney  Colvin,  article  "Art"  in  Encydopoedia  Britannica, 
Qthed. 

6 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

together  with  the  rules  and  the  result  of  every 
such  activity."  That  the  operation  should  be 
"regulated"  involves  skill,  the  pursuit  of  ends 
involves  intelligence,  and  the  presence  of  rules 
shows  the  dexterity  to  be  formally  guided. 

Is  teaching  an  art  ? 

Now,  in  the  light  of  these  definitions,  is  teach- 
ing an  art?  Is  it  an  activity?  It  is.  Does  it  in- 
volve intelHgence?  It  does.  Does  it  involve  skill? 
It  does.  Is  it  a  science?  It  is  not,  though  there 
may  be  a  science  of  teaching.  Is  it  a  work  of 
nature?  It  is  not,  but,  on  the  contrary,  is  a  work 
of  man  modifying  nature.  Has  it  rules  of  pro- 
cedure? It  has,  though  the  poorest  practice  in 
teaching  may  be  leagues  behind  the  best  rules. 
On  the  whole,  then,  we  must  conclude  that 
teaching  is  an  art,  though  the  intelligence  and 
skill  it  involves  may  in  some  cases  rank  it  with 
hod-carrying,  in  others  with  bricklaying,  and 
perhaps  in  a  few  others  with  the  plans  of  the 
architect. 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

Tufts*  definition  of  fine  art 

But  there  is  a  difference  between  art  and  fine 
art  and  our  main  question  was,  Is  teaching  a  fine 
art?  But  what  is  a  fine  art?  Recurring  to  Prof es- 
sor  Tufts'  article  we  read  that  a  fine  art  is  ^'an 
activity  or  product  of  activity  which  has  aesthetic 
value  or  (in  the  broadest  sense  of  the  term)  is 
beautiful."  This  second  definition  directs  our 
attention  to  aesthetic  value  as  the  distinguishing 
mark  between  art  and  fine  art.  But  what  is  the 
nature  of  aesthetic  value?  We  will  first  take  the 
standpoint  of  an  observer  of  a  work  of  fine  art 
in  a  studio,  or,  in  the  analogous  case,  of  a  super- 
visor of  teaching  in  the  classroom. 

The  characteristics  of  (Esthetic  value 

There  are  five  main  characteristics  of  aesthetic 
value  possessed  by  a  work  of  art.  First,  aesthetic 
value  is  objective;  that  is,  it  is  there  for  all,  share- 
able, universal;  it  is  not  purely  private  and  per- 
sonal and  agreeable  to  the  senses.  The  fruit  that 
app>ears  painted  in  "studies  of  still  life"  is  out 
there  for  all  to  see,  to  enjoy,  and  to  realize  the 
8 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

meaning  of  fruit  through  space  and  light  effects, 
whereas  the  fruit  one  ate  for  breakfast  gives  only 
an  individual  pleasure.  The  pride  one  takes  in 
owning  aesthetic  objects  is  not  an  aesthetic  feeling, 
it  is  the  property  or  ownership  feeling;  it  is  not 
necessary  to  own  a  work  of  art  in  order  to  enjoy 
it. 

Second,  the  aesthetic  value  is  intrinsic;  that  is, 
it  is  disinterested,  immediate,  contemplative,  not 
utilitarian,  mediate,  practical,  or  even  moral. 
The  frame  of  the  picture  and  its  two  dimensions 
separate  it  as  a  work  of  art  from  the  practical 
world  in  which  we  live.  An  automobile  taking  its 
place  in  a  painting  of  a  city  street  scene  may  be 
part  of  a  work  of  fine  art,  but  if  it  appears  in  a 
catalogue,  it  loses  its  aesthetic  value  in  proportion 
as  it  serves  the  purpose  of  sale.  The  viewing  of 
the  Apollo  Belvedere  as  the  Greek  ideal  of  man- 
hood is  aesthetic,  allowing  it  to  possess  intrinsic 
value,  but  the  use  of  the  same  to  study  the  physi- 
ology of  the  bodies  of  the  Greeks  is  not  aesthetic 
but  utilitarian.  We  do  not  ask  beauty  to  justify 
its  existence  by  doing  any  of  the  world's  work  for 
us,  but  only  to  represent  some  ideal  to  us  that  we 
9 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

may  repose  in  it.  As  Professor  Miinsterberg  ^ 
shows,  the  essence  of  art  is  isolation  from  the 
practical  world  of  cause  and  effect,  just  as  the 
essence  of  science  is  connection  with  antecedents 
and  consequents. 

Third,  the  work  of  art  whose  aesthetic  value  we 
feel  widens  sympathy.  In  enjoying  the  work  of  art 
our  feelings  appropriate  the  feeling  the  artist  put 
into  the  piece,  or  something  akin  to  it,  our  sym- 
pathies are  enlarged  to  include  the  Hf e  and  mean- 
ing of  the  piece  of  art.  A  good  painting  of  a  shep- 
herd with  his  sheep  and  the  faithful  dog  reveals 
to  us  a  significance  and  meaning  which  the  sight 
of  the  real  objects  often  fails  to  convey.  The  rea- 
son for  this  is  that  the  artist  feels  more  than  we 
do  in  the  presence  of  the  experiences  of  hfe,  and, 
by  selecting  and  eliminating  features,  he  spreads 
on  canvas,  in  light  and  shade,  in  form  and  color, 
accentuated  suggestions  of  feeling,  meaning,  and 
significance.  Thereafter  we  return  into  fife's  ex- 
periences with  heightened  susceptibifities.  This 
is  the  answer  to  those  practical-minded  people 

1  H.  Miinsterberg,  The  Principles  of  Art  Education,  part  i. 
New  York,  1905. 

10 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

who  say,  with  one  of  the  characters  in  Bryce^s 
Story  of  a  Floughboy :  — 

What 's  a  picture,  after  all?  Merely  a  shadow  of 
the  real.  Why  do  people  Uke  paintings,  or  profess  to 
like  them?  Because  they  Ve  lost  the  use  of  their  eyes; 
they  can't  see  Nature.  Can  any  paintings  of  the  sea 
match  the  sea  itself?  What  man  in  his  senses  would 
shut  himself  up  in  a  room  to  look  at  paintings  of  the 
sky  if  he  could  live  in  country  air  and  look  up  at  the 
sky  when  he  liked?  All  this  luxury  you've  been  talk- 
ing about  is  n't  a  means  of  helping  us  to  enjoy  life; 
it's  an  encumbrance;  it's  an  obstruction;  it  keeps  us 
from  the  sun,  it  keeps  us  in  a  stuffy  room  when  we 
might  be  out  of  doors.  And  all  this  talk  about  Art 
has  done  as  much  as  anything  to  hinder  real  reform. 
I  told  Ruskin  that  when  he  was  blathering  in  Fors. 
And  he  came  to  see  it,  for  he  said  more  than  once  that 
he  felt  he  would  never  do  any  good  till  he  stopped 
talking  and  began  to  work  like  a  man.  But,  poor 
soul!  he  had  n't  the  courage  any  more  than  the  rest 
of  us. 

Fourth,  in  the  best  art  there  is  a  sense  of  con- 
scious self -illusion,  as  some  one  has  described  it. 
In  viewing  a  fine  portrait  of  some  friend,  we  seem 
to  be  in  his  presence  again,  to  feel  his  spirit,  to 
share  his  atmosphere,  to  realize  his  ideals,  —  in 
II 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

this  consists  the  self -illusion;  but  we  do  not  break 
the  sacred  silence  to  ask  him  questions,  even 
though  we  consider  it  "a  speaking  likeness,"  — 
in  this  the  self -illusion  is  conscious.  That  Zeuxis 
deceived  the  birds  with  his  painting  of  lifelike 
grapes  and  that  Parrhasius  deceived  even  Zeuxis 
with  his  reahstic  painting  of  the  curtain,  is  not 
the  highest  evidence  of  the  skill  of  those  painters; 
in  those  cases  the  self-illusion  was  not  conscious. 
The  portrait  is  selective  and  heightening  in  effect, 
it  could  not  be  mistaken  for  the  original;  a  col- 
ored, life-size  photograph  is  unselective  and 
"just-so"  in  its  presentation;  it  might  be  mis- 
taken for  the  original,  but  its  aesthetic  value  is 
lower  than  that  of  the  portrait.  The  Eden 
Musee,  where  death  is  mistaken  for  life,  does  not 
stir  as  high  aesthetic  emotions  as  the  Metropoli- 
tan Museum  where  life  is  consciously  viewed  in 
idealized  form.  We  admire  the  talent  shown  in 
the  one,  the  genius  in  the  other. 

Fifth,  there  is  often,  not  always,  an  element  of 
pain  or  melancholy  in  the  enjoyment  of  aesthetic 
value.  It  is  obvious  in  the  threnody  of  poetry 
and  in  the  minor  strains  of  music.   Milton  ex- 

12 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

presses  it  in  //  Penseroso.  The  source  of  the  feel- 
ing is  not  easy  to  find.  The  sense  of  the  perfect 
disturbs  us  while  it  enraptures  us.  Even  the  pain 
it  causes  us  is  a  delight  which  we  should  not  care 
to  forego,  just  as  Peter,  at  the  moment  of  realiz- 
ing his  Master's  character,  urges  him  to  depart, 
though  his  Master's  departure  would  have 
pleased  him  still  less.  Perhaps  the  source  of  the 
feeling  is  the  contrast  effect  between  the  ideal  of 
art  and  the  real  of  our  own  experience.  As  the 
ideal  begins  to  harmonize  our  own  ruffled  and 
unordered  feelings,  the  growing-pains  of  the  soul 
arise.  Even  the  soft  blues  of  an  Italian  sky  may 
dim  the  eyes  and  awaken  an  inexpressible  sad- 
ness. 

Teaching  as  having  (esthetic  value 

Now,  all  this  seems  remote  enough  from  what 
our  school  supervisor  or  visitor,  looking  for  some 
show  of  art,  can  see  and  hear  in  the  classroom. 
But  the  real  question  is  not  so  much  one  of  actual 
practice  as  one  of  possible  practice.  May  not  the 
observed  teaching  process  come  to  have  aesthetic 
value?  Objective  it  certainly  is.  A  thing  worth 
13 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

while  in  itself,  having  an  intrinsic  value  for  itself, 
it  certainly  may  be,  especially  where  the  ideals  of 
a  liberal  in  distinction  from  a  vocational  training 
dominate,  where  things  worth  doing  are  done  well 
for  their  own  sake  without  regard  to  their  prac- 
tical usefulness.  A  widening  of  sympathy  will 
also  result  in  case  the  ground  covered  is  not  too 
familiar  and  the  treatment  of  the  truth  and  Ufe 
involved  in  the  lesson  is  vital,  real,  and  apprecia- 
tive. Even  a  sense  of  conscious  self -illusion  may 
be  present  when  the  teaching  hour  simulates  the 
real  original  experience;  there  is  no  danger  of  its 
being  mistaken  for  it;  as  when  a  teacher  of  Greek 
history  plays  for  a  time  the  part  of  Socrates  and 
the  pupils  answer  him  as  they  suppose  Athenian 
youths  to  have  done.  Any  dramatization  or  even 
vivid  word  portrayal  of  past  truth  and  life  may 
awaken  within  us  a  sense  of  the  original  reality; 
thus  the  past  lives  again.  In  the  ideal  classroom 
living  is  real,  the  teaching  that  reproduces  the 
racial  experience  is  real,  yet  both  teachers  and 
pupils  recognize  that  the  life  of  which  they  speak 
is  more  real  than  the  speaking  of  it.  Regarding 
the  last  point,  the  sadness  provoked  by  the  ideal, 
14 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

it  is  to  be  confessed  that,  so  far,  in  the  develop- 
ment of  teaching,  this  sense  is  aroused  more  by 
the  absence  than  by  the  presence  of  the  ideal. 
Even  here,  however,  the  observer  may  feel  the 
sharp  contrast  between  hfe  as  the  school  ideally 
represents  it  and  life  as  it  is,  and  he  may  find 
himself  anticipating  with  regret  the  rude  awak- 
enings awaiting  unsophisticated  young  people. 
This  is  as  it  should  be;  the  school  should  present 
life  at  its  best,  only  hinting  at  the  real  existence  of 
the  mean  and  the  sordid,  and  exalting  the  ideals 
of  service  and  sacrifice.  To  the  contemplative 
observer  the  work  of  some  schoolrooms  may  in- 
deed appeal  as  having  aesthetic  value  because  of 
the  struggUng  efforts  present  to  realize  even  in  a 
crude  way  the  highest  ideals  of  living. 

The  characteristics  of  (Esthetic  activity 

A  fine  art,  our  definition  said,  was  "an  activity 
or  a  product  of  activity  which  has  aesthetic 
value."  We  have  considered  the  characteristics 
of  aesthetic  value  and  how  the  teaching  process 
may  come  to  possess  them.  Now  we  must  in- 
quire concerning  the  nature  of  the  activity  itself 
15 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

by  which  works  of  beauty  are  produced,  with  a 
view  to  considering  whether  the  teacher  also  may 
become  an  artist  in  his  work.  From  the  stand- 
point of  an  observer  of  a  work  of  art  we  pass  to 
that  of  the  producer. 

Lack  of  data 

We  are  handicapped  at  the  outset  of  this 
inquiry  by  the  lack  of  suitable  material  upon 
which  to  base  conclusions.  Artists  do  creative 
work,  but  they  do  not  tell  us  how  they  do  it. 
Their  minds  are  bent  on  production,  not  intro- 
spection. We  could  wish  more  artists  would  tell 
us  how  it  feels  to  write  a  poem,  to  compose  a 
piece  of  music,  to  carve  a  statue,  to  paint  a  pic- 
ture, to  design  a  building,  or  to  beautify  a  natural 
landscape.  The  introspection  upon  which  such 
reports  would  rest  would  itself  cripple  the  activ- 
ity it  was  observing.  Those  readers  who  are 
themselves  artists  may,  however,  by  memory 
verify  and  correct  our  account  of  their  work. 
Wolf-Ferrari,  the  musical  composer,  is  quoted 
as  saying  in  regard  to  his  method  of  composi- 
tion: — 

i6 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

I  could  not  bear  to  plan  or  to  feel  that  I  had  a 
method.  I  should  not  like  to  know  where  I  shall  eat 
luncheon  to-morrow.  No  more  do  I  want  to  know 
how  or  m  what  manner  I  shall  write  my  next  work. 
I  want  it  to  be  natural.  I  want  the  music  to  express 
the  text,  —  that  is  all  I  care  about. 

Here  certainly  is  artistic  spontaneity. 

Channing  Pollock,  in  The  Footlights  — Fore 
and  Aft,  gives  the  following  description  of  one 
dramatist  at  work:  — 

When  Eugene  Walter  writes  a  play  the  tools  neces- 
sary to  the  process  are  one  large  room,  one  outfit  of 
furniture  and  one  exceptionally  rapid  stenographer. 
Mr.  Walter  and  the  stenographer  enter  the  room. 
The  door  is  locked,  and  work  is  begun  by  placing  the 
furniture  as  it  is  to  be  placed  on  the  stage  —  in  other 
words,  by  setting  the  scene.  Then  the  young  drama- 
tist begins  to  act.  He  is  all  the  characters  in  his  play. 
He  rushes  about  the  apartment,  quarreling  with 
himself,  making  love  to  himself,  now  standing  here 
as  one  person  and  then  racing  to  the  opposite  end  of 
the  apartment  to  be  another.  All  the  time  he  is 
speaking  the  words  that  come  into  his  mind  as  na- 
tural under  the  circumstances,  and  the  stenographer 
is  taking  them  down  at  top  speed.  At  the  end  of  an 
hour  or  two  an  act  is  finished,  an  invisible  curtain  is 

17 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

rung  down,  and  if  the  amanuensis  has  n't  fainted, 
as  two  did  in  one  day  of  labor  on  one  play,  the  stage 
is  set  for  the  next  act. 

Here  at  least  are  self-expression,  imagination, 
and  imitation. 

Six  characteristics  of  (esthetic  activity 

On  the  whole  there  appear  to  be  six  main 
characteristics  of  the  aesthetic  activity.  These 
are  spontaneity,  self-expression,  imagination, 
imitation,  love,  and  self -relief .  These  six  are  very 
closely  related  as  the  discussion  of  them  will 
indicate. 

Spontaneity.  The  aesthetic  activity  is  spon- 
taneous; that  is,  it  is  seK-initiated,  free,  inspired, 
natural,  playful.  The  activity  that  is  not  self- 
activity  cannot  be  aesthetic;  it  can  be  mechani- 
cal. The  great  poems  are  not  made  to  order,  they 
are  not  even  poems  for  occasions.  Hack  work 
may  be  done  for  pay  at  command  but  artistic 
activity  must  be  stimulated  from  within.  Beauty 
rather  creates  a  demand  for  itself  than  supplies  it. 
The  artists  who  receive  orders  to  be  filled  must  at 
least  be  given  time  for  their  inspiration  to  come. 
i8 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

Self-expression.  The  aesthetic  activity  is  self- 
expressive;  that  is,  it  exhibits  the  self  of  the 
artist.  The  artist  must  have  a  self  to  exhibit,  and 
the  kind  of  self  he  is  will  appear  in  his  art,  if  his 
art  is  sincere.  Some  artists  reveal  more  of  them- 
selves than  others;  thus  did  Goethe  more  than 
Shakespeare,  though  it  is  probably  true  that,  if 
we  knew  the  life  of  Shakespeare  better,  we  should 
see  him  more  in  his  works  than  we  are  now  able 
to  do.  And  one  material  is  more  expressive  of 
personality  than  another;  thus  music  is  more  ex- 
pressive than  architecture.  The  content  of  the 
work  of  art  is  largely  supplied  by  the  ideas  and 
experiences  of  the  artist.  Good  art  is  a  pleasing 
exhibition  of  the  self  of  the  artist. 

Imagination.  The  aesthetic  activity  involves 
imagination,  —  imagination,  that  is,  of  the  pro- 
ductive, not  of  the  reproductive,  type.  The  pro- 
ductive imagination  of  the  artist  re-combines  old 
experiences  in  new  ways.  The  poet  gives  us  a 
new  arrangement  of  old  words  descriptive  of  his 
feelings  and  ideas.  The  musical  composer  gives  us 
the  familiar  sounds  in  imf amiliar  combinations, 
expressing  the  harmony  or  chaos  his  soul  feels. 
19 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

The  sculptor  gives  us  the  familiar  human  or  ani- 
mal body  in  a  new  position  or  exhibiting  a  dififer- 
ent  emotion.  The  painter  combines  old  colors  in 
new  ways  suggesting  new  shades  of  feeling.  The 
architect  uses  old  motives  in  new  ways  to  suit  the 
central  idea  of  the  building.  The  imagination  of 
the  artist  is  creative,  not  in  the  sense  that  it 
makes  something  out  of  nothing,  but  in  the  sense 
that  it  shapes  old  material  in  novel  ways. 

Imitation.  The  aesthetic  activity  is  imitative; 
this  was  its  essential  characteristic  to  Plato,  and 
on  this  ground  he  condemned  art  as  unreal,  his 
standard  of  reality,  however,  being  intellectual, 
not  emotional.  The  presence  of  imitation  in  art 
is  most  obvious  in  the  paintings,  carvings,  and 
drawings  from  models  or  nature.  The  initial 
training  of  the  artist  is  largely  copying.  But 
merely  imitative  art  is  never  first  grade.  By  imi- 
tating the  work  of  another,  one  ends  by  finding 
himself.  The  finest  products  of  art  are  indeed 
imitative  but  in  a  very  free  and  original  manner. 
The  photograph  in  colors  of  a  scene  is  the  exact 
imitation  of  the  landscape,  but  the  photograph  is 
not  such  high  art  as  a  painting  of  that  scene.  In 

20 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

the  painting  there  is  still  imitation,  but  in  addi- 
tion there  is  selection  and  emphasis  of  certain 
features  in  the  landscape;  the  final  painting  is  the 
scene  not  as  it  is  in  itself  but  as  it  appears  to  the 
artist.  Thus  fine  art  is  not  really  holding  "the 
mirror  up  to  nature,"  it  is  idealizing  nature. 
Thus  the  imitation  that  characterizes  the  aes- 
thetic activity  is  not  exact  in  detail,  but  faithful 
to  the  type. 

Love.  All  art  is  animated  by  the  love-impulse. 
The  artist  is  a  lover;  he  is  in  love  with  the  ideal, 
in  love  with  his  work,  and  in  love  with  the  partic- 
ular piece  upon  which  he  is  working.  The  love- 
impulse  behind  art  is  closely  related  to  the  social 
instinct.  Though  artistic  genius  begins  to  dis- 
close itself  in  early  years  ordinarily,  the  highest 
appreciation  and  production  of  art  cannot  arise 
before  adolescence.  The  artist  is  habituated  to 
expressing  his  love  in  his  work;  he  is  not  accus- 
tomed to  restraining  but  to  expressing  his  love- 
impulse.  It  is  possible  that  this  fact  helps  to  ex- 
plain, though  not  to  justify,  the  frequent  moral 
irregularity  of  artists.  However  this  may  be,  it  is 
important  to  recognize  that  all  art  is  begotten  in 

21 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

love.  There  is  a  certain  intensity,  heat,  glow,  and 
sense  of  fullness  in  all  aesthetic  activity. 

Self-relief.  It  is  not  surprising  that  aesthetic 
activity  should  end  in  self-relief.  The  burden  is 
discharged  and  relaxation  supervenes.  The  sur- 
plus energy  has  been  worked  off  and  lassitude 
results.  The  emotional  pressure  is  over,  the 
muscles  lose  their  tenseness,  the  whole  being  lets 
down.  There  is  a  certain  joy  in  being  delivered  of 
a  part  of  one's  self  which  may  survive  one's  self 
and  even  the  shocks  of  time.  The  period  of  relax- 
ation is  likely  to  be  of  short  duration,  however; 
some  other  conception  begins  to  grow  in  the  soul 
toward  maturity;  then  the  nervous  strain  of  self- 
delivery  comes  on  again,  followed  by  relief;  and 
so  the  process  repeats  itself.  In  its  mothering  of 
ideals  all  art  is  feminine. 

Teaching  as  an  (Esthetic  activity 

Teaching  appears  as  a  possible  fine  art  even 
better  in  its  relation  to  the  aesthetic  activity  than 
to  the  aesthetic  values  previously  considered. 
The  teacher  is  like  the  artist,  the  pupils  are  his 
material  through  whom  he  is  expressing  his 

22 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

ideals.  Such  an  artist  teacher  is  spontaneous  and 
free  in  his  methods,  knowing  the  rules  of  the 
technique  of  teaching  but  subordinating  them  to 
his  own  purposes.  He  is  self-expressive  in  letting 
his  pupils  fully  into  the  secrets  of  his  ambition  for 
them  as  individuals  and  in  showing  the  ideals 
regnant  in  his  own  life.  He  is  imaginative  in 
handling  the  familiar  material  of  instruction  in 
new  and  unfamiliar  ways,  making  contrasts  and 
suggesting  comparisons.  He  is  imitative  of  the 
great  masters  of  teaching,  Socrates,  Jesus,  Pes- 
tolozzi,  and  Froebel,  but  in  his  own  independent 
way.  He  is  animated  by  the  love  of  teaching,  by 
the  love  of  his  pupils,  and  by  the  joy  he  finds  in 
making  ideals  take  root  in  human  lives.  And  at 
the  end  of  each  day's  work,  each  week's,  each 
year's,  there  is  the  sense  of  having  emptied  him- 
self, the  demand  for  quiet  and  rest  till  the  burden 
of  fullness  is  again  present.  In  this  cycle  of  self- 
expression  and  assimilation,  of  giving  forth  and 
taking  in,  of  transferring  personality  and  re-gain- 
ing personality,  the  teacher  finds  that  he  too  may 
be  an  artist  in  his  work,  embodying  day  by  day 
his  highest  ideals  of  living  in  the  plastic  growing 

2? 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

material  of  the  nation's  youth.  Seeing  visions 
constantly  himself,  he  lives  to  assist  others  in 
seeing  them,  and  rejoices  daily  in  his  exalted 
calling.  Not  all  teachers  are,  or  can  hope  to  be- 
come, artists  in  their  work,  because  their  eyes  are 
blind,  their  ears  deaf,  their  hearts  heavy  of  under- 
standing, their  tasks  formal,  their  pupils  obnox- 
ious, their  work  drudgery,  and  even  their  ideals 
ignoble.  The  difference  is  rather  in  the  teacher 
than  in  the  pupil  or  the  equipment.  The  artist  is 
an  artist  in  any  environment,  and  so  is  the  unfor- 
tunate blockhead.  But  many  teachers  have  the 
making  of  artists  in  them  and  do  not  know  it; 
for  these  particularly  we  must  work.  The  artist 
teacher  works  not  with  brush  and  canvas,  nor 
with  chisel  and  marble,  but  with  truths  and 
youths,  with  ideals  and  nervous  systems.  He  too 
like  the  artists  of  the  world  is  striving  to  embody 
the  ideal  in  the  real. 

How  teaching  differs  from  the  other  fine  arts 

There  is  one  important  distinction  between  the 
aesthetic  activity  of  the  teacher  and  of  other  ar- 
tists which  we  must  bear  in  mind  if  we  would  not 
24 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

press  the  analogy  between  teaching  and  the  fine 
arts  too  far.  This  distinction  regards  the  material 
which  is  informed  by  the  ideals.  The  material  of 
other  artists,  whether  wood,  stone,  marble,  brass, 
colors,  sounds,  is  inert  and  impersonal,  while  that 
of  the  teacher  is  alive  and  personal.  Other  artists 
may  have  regard  for  their  ideals  alone,  shaping 
their  material  at  pleasure  to  embody  them;  the 
teacher  must  have  regard  also  for  his  material, 
which  he  cannot  shape  at  pleasure  because  it  has 
a  form  and  essence  of  its  own.  Other  artists  con- 
form their  material  to  their  ideals;  the  teacher 
must  transform  his  ideals  to  suit  his  material. 
Other  artists  make  bodies  for  their  ideals;  the 
teacher  must  enable  bodies  to  grow  into  the  ideals 
of  their  own  nature.  The  teacher  is  not  so  much 
like  the  sculptor  as  he  is  like  the  gardener.  It  is 
hard  to  say  whether  this  distinction  renders  the 
work  of  teaching  more  or  less  difficult,  more  or 
less  "fine,"  than  the  other  arts. 

The  nature  of  the  (esthetic  product 

Recurring  once  again  to  our  definition  of  fiine 
art,  namely,  "an  activity,  or  a  product  of  activ- 
25 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

ity,  which  has  aesthetic  value,"  we  note  there  is 
one  element  of  it  hitherto  unconsidered,  —  the 
aesthetic  product.  We  have  considered  the  nature 
of  aesthetic  value  and  the  nature  of  aesthetic  activ- 
ity, and  we  have  now  to  ask,  what  is  the  work  of 
art  itself? 

The  idealistic  philosophy  of  art 

Without  reviewing  the  interesting  and  devel- 
oping series  of  historic  answers  to  this  question, 
which  would  take  us  too  far  afield,  let  us  select 
and  contrast  two  typical  views  of  the  nature  of 
art,  namely,  the  idealistic  and  the  pragmatic.  Ac- 
cording to  the  idealistic  view,  the  work  of  art  is 
the  imitation  of  some  ideal,  and  utility  does  not 
essentially  belong  to  it.  This  philosophy  of  art 
would  be  represented  by  the  names  of  Plato,  Aris- 
totle, and  Hegel,  and  is  expressed  in  part  by  the 
familiar  line  of  Keats,  *'a  thing  of  beauty  is  a  joy 
forever,"  coupled  with  the  thought  of  Emerson, 
"beauty  is  its  own  excuse  for  being." 

Plato  as  an  example.  To  take  Plato  for  more 
specific  consideration  as  an  example  of  the  ideal- 
istic philosophy  of  art.  Plato  is  the  first  theo- 
*  26 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

rist  to  consider  art  critically.  Paraphrasing  his 
thought,  we  may  express  it  briefly,  though  some- 
what cumbrously,  as  follows:  art  is  the  imita- 
tion of  an  imitation  of  some  divine  idea.  Let  us 
explain.  According  to  Plato  the  real  world  is 
the  ideal  world,  the  world  of  existent,  objective, 
universal  ideas.  He  reached  this  view  through 
taking  the  "concepts"  of  Socrates  as  the  real 
elements  in  knowledge  and  raising  them  to  an 
absolute  existence.  Thus  there  are  "ideas"  of 
wisdom,  courage,  temperance,  justice,  and  even 
of  classes  of  material  objects,  like  men  and  beds, 
and,  highest  of  all,  there  is  the  idea  of  the  good. 
In  his  dialogue  Timceus,  Plato  represents  God 
as  an  artist  making  the  world  in  accord  with  the 
"  ideas  "  as  eternal  patterns.  Now  the  artisan,  like 
bed-  and  bridle-maker,  makes  objects  according 
to  their  idea,  that  is,  according  to  the  purpose 
they  are  set  to  serve.  Then  comes  the  artist  — 
the  painter  or  poet,  who  imitates  the  object, 
which  itself  is  the  artisan's  imitation  of  the  real 
idea.  Thus  art  is  an  imitation  of  an  imitation  of 
an  idea.  Thus  the  artist  is  really  dealing  with 
reality  at  third  hand ;  he  presents  us  only  with  the 
27 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

appearance  of  an  appearance,  with  the  shadow  of 
a  shadow. 

For  these  reasons,  Plato,  though  once  a  poet 
himself,  and  always  a  literary  artist,  did  not  es- 
teem art  highly.  The  ideal  state  had  little  room 
for  artists  and  the  ideal  curriculum  little  place  for 
art,  for  it  did  not  bring  the  mind  into  close  touch 
with  reality  as  did  mathematics  and  philosophy. 
Art  is  indeed  useless  in  conducting  us  to  reality, 
according  to  Plato,  but  in  this  he  found  reason 
not  for  praising  but  for  condemning  art,  except 
such  simple  forms  of  song  and  music  as  made 
soldiers  brave  and  such  simple  beauty  in  the 
environment  as  refined  the  taste. 

Modern  idealistic  philosophy  of  art  in  contrast 
with  Plato's 

The  modem  idealistic  philosophy  of  art  still 
regards  it,  with  Plato,  as  a  striving  to  express  an 
inexpressible  ideal  and  still  finds  utility  absent 
from  its  essential  nature,  but,  unlike  Plato, 
praises  instead  of  condemns  art  for  its  useless- 
ness.  That  about  art  which  to  Plato  was  a  defect 
has  become  one  of  its  admirable  qualities.  Both 
28 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

Plato  and  the  modern  idealists  want  the  ideal  but 
they  differ  in  that  Plato  regarded  art  as  detaching 
us  from  the  ideal  whereas  moderns  regard  art  as 
attaching  us  to  the  ideal.  This  difference  is  due 
fundamentally  to  Aristotle  who  made  the  ideal 
immanent  in  Hfe  instead  of  transcendent. 

Summary 

In  sum,  the  idealistic  philosophy  of  art  makes 
it  an  imitation  of  an  ideal  copy  and  free  from 
utility,  whether  blamed  or  praised  for  this  latter 
characteristic. 

The  pragmatic  philosophy  of  art 

Now  in  contrast,  the  pragmatic  philosophy  of 
art.  According  to  pragmatism,  art  is  not  so  much 
a  copy  of  what  is  as  a  promise  of  what  is  to  be,  it 
is  not  static  but  dynamic,  it  is  not  retrospective 
but  prospective,  it  is  not  imitation  of  an  existent 
ideal  but  a  formulation  of  a  distant  ideal  becom- 
ing real  in  time.  And  the  effect  of  art  upon  us  is 
not  to  quiet  but  to  inspire,  not  to  rest  us  but  to 
stimulate  us.  Consequently,  utility  is  part  of  the 
essence  of  art.  The  pragmatists  would  disagree 
29 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

with  Plato  that  art  is  the  imitation  of  an  absolute 
ideal  but  they  would  agree  with  him  in  condemn- 
ing useless  art,  the  art  that  does  not  conduct  to 
truth  and  that  does  not  form  character. 

Miss  Gordon  quoted 

Let  us  illustrate  the  pragmatic  philosophy  of 
art  by  quotation  from  a  recent  writer.  Miss  Kate 
Gordon  ^  says:  — 

The  pragmatic  view  of  art,  I  should  say,  is  this, 
that  art  is  not  essentially  an  imitation  of  life  —  a 
copy  of  something  done  and  finished  before  art  took 
it  up;  but  that  life  is  a  copy  and  imitation  of  art.  If 
art  is  "the  image  of  life,"  it  is  more  a  prophetic  than 
an  historic  image.  .  .  .  After  seeing  a  Turner  one  sees 
more  form  and  color  in  the  sky. 

Which  is  the  true  theory  ? 

Thus  we  have  the  two  contrasting  views  of  the 
nature  of  a  work  of  art.  Before  asking  whether 
teaching  is  or  may  become  a  work  of  art,  we  must 
consider  which  is  the  true  theory  of  what  a  work 
of  art  is,  the  idealistic  or  the  pragmatic?  In  an- 

^  "Pragmatism  in  Esthetics,"  in  Essays  Philosophical  and 
Psychological  in  Honor  of  William  James.  New  York,  1908. 

30 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

swering  this  question,  fortunately  we  do  not  have 
to  choose  between  the  rival  theories,  as  sometimes 
must  be  done,  but  we  may  combine  the  two,  if 
the  idealists  and  the  pragmatists  will  allow  us. 
Art  is  both  an  imitation  of  the  highest  ideal  the 
artist  can  conceive  and  it  does  usefully  influence 
thought  and  character.  Without  the  ideal,  art 
has  no  content;  without  a  beneficial  influence,  its 
content  is  unworthy. 

"Art  for  art's  sake'' 

The  phrase,  "art  for  art's  sake,"  originated  as 
a  protest  against  making  painting  tell  a  story, 
against  the  requirement  that  art  should  be  narra- 
tive, and  so  ethical  in  influence.  The  phrase 
meant  to  insist  on  form  in  distinction  from  con- 
tent, and  on  beauty  in  distinction  from  goodness. 
The  meaning  of  the  phrase  looks  consequently  in 
the  direction  of  the  idealistic  rather  than  the 
pragmatic  philosophy  of  art.  Yet  we  have  as- 
signed a  measure  of  truth  to  the  pragmatic  phil- 
osophy of  art.  How  then  are  these  two  things  to 
be  reconciled? 


31 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

Art  for  lifers  sake 

Under  examination  the  work  of  art  reveals  two 
elements,  form  and  content.  To  insist  upon  form 
alone  is  to  insist  upon  an  abstraction,  for  there  is 
no  form  without  content,  just  as  there  can  exist 
no  content  without  form.  It  is  an  impossible 
purism  to  insist  in  art  upon  form  for  form's  sake. 
Content  all  art  must  have  and  does  have,  though 
less  defined  in  some  art,  as  in  impressionism,  than 
in  others. 

Now  wherever  there  is  content  there  also 
is  some  effect  upon  thought,  and  so  possibly 
upon  character,  as  well  as  the  effect  upon  feeling 
and  sensation,  which  form  gives.  We  must  con- 
clude, therefore,  that  art  cannot  exist  for  art's 
sake  only,  that  the  effects  of  beauty  are  also  a 
part  of  its  excuse  for  being,  and  that  art,  like 
truth,  is  also  for  life's  sake.  This  does  not  mean 
that  the  artist  should  strive  for  effect,  or  that  he 
should  regard  himself  primarily  as  a  moralist,  but 
only  that  he  should  recognize  that  no  art  is 
without  its  influence  on  thought  and  conduct  as 
well  as  upon  feeling,  and  that  the  highest  art 
32 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

will  not  offend  logical  and  ethical  standards  at 
the  same  time  that  it  conforms  to  standards  of 
taste. 

Walter  Pater  on  Plato 

Plato  would  probably  agree  to  this  conclusion 
which  synthesizes  the  pragmatic  and  idealistic 
philosophies  of  art;  at  least  he  would  as  Pater 
finely  interprets  him,  who  says,^  "And  Plato's 
aesthetics,  remember,  as  such  are  ever  in  close 
connection  with  Plato's  ethics.  It  is  life  itself, 
action  and  character,  he  proposes  to  color;  to  get 
something  of  that  irrepressible  conscience  of  art, 
that  spirit  of  control,  into  the  general  course  of 
life,  above  all  into  its  energetic  or  impassioned 
acts." 

Final  view  of  the  msthetic  product 

In  summary,  combining  the  two  philosophies 
of  art,  we  should  have  to  say  art  is  life  in  its  ideal- 
ity, felt  and  expressed,  and  life  is,  or  should  be, 
such  art  loved,  cherished,  and  obeyed. 

1  Walter  Pater,  Plato  and  the  Platonists,  pp.  254-55. 


33 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

Teaching  as  a  work  of  art 

If  now  we  inquire  whether  teaching  is  or  may 
become  a  work  of  art,  the  question  means  two 
things,  namely,  does  teaching  imitate  and  repre- 
sent ideals?  and  does  it  shape  life  in  accord  with 
those  ideals?  In  both  cases  the  answer  is  affirma- 
tive: some  teaching  does  do  these  two  things,  and 
all  teaching  should.  Teaching  at  its  best  does  feel 
and  express  the  ideals  of  life,  —  health,  truth, 
beauty,  goodness,  social  efficiency,  and  God;  and 
it  does  win  allegiance  to  these  ideals  in  the  daily 
living  of  young  people.  Thus  teaching  is  both  an 
ideality  and  a  practicality.  It  is  the  business  of 
the  school  to  set,  not  simply  to  conform  to,  social 
standards;  and  by  its  corporate  atmosphere  to 
demonstrate  that  the  higher  life  is  practicable. 
Esthetic  teaching  is  life  interpreted  in  terms  of 
its  best,  as  life  again  is,  or  should  be,  such  teach- 
ing applied. 

Miss  Slatiery  quoted 

An  example  may  be  quoted  at  length  from 

Miss  Slattery,  who  writes:  ^ 

*  Margaret  Slattery,  Living  Teachers,  pp.  47-52.  Cleveland, 
1909. 

34 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

The  business  of  every  teacher  is  to  encourage  and 
enthuse  every  pupil  he  teaches.  He  is  an  artist,  and 
the  picture  he  paints  should  awaken  the  ambition  of 
each  child,  stir  his  soul  with  desire  to  be,  and  inspire 
him  with  confidence  that  he  can  be.  And  if  the  teacher 
is  keenly  alive,  a  lover  of  the  world,  feels  the  response 
of  its  great  heart,  his  task  is  perfectly  possible. 

I  can  never  forget  a  magazine  story,  "The  Artist's 
Masterpiece,"  told  me  by  a  friend  some  years  ago. 
It  is  a  wonderful  story  and  shows  just  what  all  I  have 
been  saying  means. 

Back  into  the  country  town  that  gave  him  birth, 
the  story  says,  came  the  great  artist,  proud  of  all  the 
honor  and  success  hard  work  had  brought  to  him. 
He  wanted  rest,  to  see  the  old  places  he  loved  and 
live  over  again  the  simple  natural  life  of  his  boyhood. 

At  first  the  people  were  afraid  of  his  fame,  but  in  a 
few  weeks  he  was  the  interested  friend  of  men,  women 
and  children,  trusted  and  loved  by  all  save  one  — 
Mr.  A- — . 

Ten  years  before,  Mr.  A had  come  a  stranger 

to  the  town.  He  said  nothing  about  himself,  had  no 
letters  of  introduction,  would  answer  no  questions. 
He  opened  a  law  office  where  he  spent  his  days;  at 
night  he  studied.  He  was  a  mystery.  Rumor  said 
that  an  important  position  awaited  him  in  a  distant 
city,  but  he  would  not  return.  One  day  the  town  was 
greatly  excited  over  a  consulship  in  a  distant  land 

35 


THE  TEACHER"  AS  ARTIST 

which  was  off ered  him.  He  refused  to  accept  it.  After 
a  time  they  grew  accustomed  to  him,  spoke  of  him  in 
half  suspicious  tones,  and  left  him  to  himself. 
r    The  artist  had  tried  in  vain  to  know  him.  But  one 
day,  in  response  to  the  confidence  in  him  which  he 

had  expressed,  Mr.  A said  that  he  had  made  a 

mistake  in  his  life,  lost  his  courage,  and  wished  to 
forget.  He  would  say  no  more.  After  that,  seeing 
him  walk  slowly  along,  head  down,  listless  and  not 
caring,  a  great  desire  to  help  him  find  life  again  filled 
the  artist's  soul. 

He  had  promised  himself  a  full  year  of  rest,  but 
now  sought  out  a  studio  and  began  to  paint.  Ea- 
geriy,  steadily,  with  keenest  enthusiasm  he  labored. 
Months  passed  and  his  picture  was  finished.    That 

day  he  sought  Mr.  A in  his  office  and  asked  him 

to  come  down  and  see  the  picture.  "  It  is  my  master- 
piece," he  said,  "I  shall  never  do  anything  better,  I 
have  put  all  my  art  into  it.  No  one  has  seen  it  yet. 
Will  you  look  at  it?" 

Mr.  A seemed  pleased.  They  walked  together 

to  the  studio.  The  artist  stepped  behind  the  great 
canvas  stretched  across  the  room.  He  pulled  aside 

the  crimson  curtain,  and  there  before  him  Mr.  A 

saw  himself.  Yet  it  was  not  he,  for  the  man  upon  the 
canvas  faced  the  world  straight,  shoulders  thrown 
back,  head  erect,  ambition,  desire,  hope,  in  attitude 
and  expression. 

36 


IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

For  a  long  time  he  gazed  in  silence.  The  artist 
waited  breathlessly  to  see  if  his  masterpiece  were  a 

success  or  failure.   At  last  Mr.  A spoke.   "He 

thinks  I'm  that,"  he  said.  "He  sees  that  in  me." 
Then  a  pause.  "Am  I  that?  Can  I  be  that?"  In  a 
moment  the  artist  stood  beside  him.  Together  they 
looked  at  the  man  on  the  canvas  while  the  other 
asked  again,  "Can  I  be  that?"  "Yes,"  said  the 
artist,  and  it  seemed  the  voice  of  the  masterpiece. 

Then  said  Mr.  A ,  gazing  straight  at  it,  "I  will 

go  back,  /  will  be  that."  And  he  went  from  the  studio, 
courage,  hope,  confidence  in  every  step. 

Summary  of  the  whole  discussion 

Thus,  in  sum,  we  have  seen  that  teaching  has, 
or  may  have,  aesthetic  value;  that  it  is,  or  may 
become,  an  aesthetic  activity;  and  that  it  is,  or 
may  be,  an  aesthetic  product.  Is  teaching  then, 
finally,  one  of  the  fine  arts?  The  answer  must  be 
affirmative,  if  we  take  such  answer  not  as  a  de- 
scription but  as  a  challenge.  Teaching  is  a  fine 
art,  if  we  make  it  so.  The  matter  rests  upon  all 
school  authorities,  but  mainly  upon  the  teachers. 
It  is  not  essentially  a  question  of  more  teachers  of 
art,  though  we  need  such,  but  of  more  artistic 
teachers. 

37 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

A  practical  question 

How  shall  teachers  become  artistic?  is  the 
practical  question.  We  will  consider  the  answer 
in  the  following  chapter. 


II 

THE  SHRIVING  OF  AN  INARTISTIC  TEACHER 

The  point  of  view 

The  confessor  and  the  priest  are  in  this  case  the 
same.  The  confessor  reporesents  in  a  way  his 
class.  He  is  a  teacher.  The  process  of  shriving 
involves  confession,  penance,  and  absolution. 
The  confession  covers  lapses  from  the  aesthetic 
ideal,  the  penance  includes  renewed  effort  to  con- 
form to  aesthetic  principles,  and  absolution  means 
the  willingness  to  go  on  hving  with  one's  faulty, 
but  progressive  and  forgiven  self.  Other  mem- 
bers of  the  class  for  whom  the  confessor  speaks 
are  craved  to  grant  indulgence  in  proportion  as 
they  themselves  are  innocent. 

The  lapse  of  the  ideal 

I  am  not  an  artistic  teacher  and  I  belong  to  a 

class  of  inartistic  teachers.    Only  on  rare  and 

brief  occasions  can  I  truthfully  say,  "I  too  am 

an  artist.''   I  do  not  teach  suflSciently  by  my 

39 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

ideals,  I  do  not  sufficiently  idealize  my  work,  an(i 
am  not  sufficiently  inspired  by  the  vision  of  ulti- 
mate results.  I  live  and  labor  on  the  low  plane 
of  the  valleys,  forgetting  the  prospect  from  the 
hilltop,  and  often  find  myself  too  tired  from  the 
day's  work  to  climb.  Yet  I  really  live  by  such 
glimpses  of  the  ideal  as  I  have  had  or  can  catch. 

Our  small  influence 

As  teacher  I  belong  to  one  of  the  social  classes. 
There  are  half  a  million  of  me  in  the  United 
States  alone.  There  are  twenty  thousand  of  me 
in  New  York  City.  The  dignity,  antiquity,  and 
extent  of  our  service  constitute  us  one  of  the  most 
important  social  classes.  Not  that  any  so-called 
social  class,  enjoying  freedom  of  human  inter- 
course, is  more  than  an  abstraction.  We,  like 
members  of  any  other  social  class,  have  other  re- 
lations than  to  our  labor.  Now  it  is  a  remarkable 
thing  about  us  as  a  class  that,  belonging  as  we  do 
to  such  a  noble  profession,  we  yet  exert  so  little 
influence  on  the  affairs  of  society,  perhaps  I  had 
better  say  on  the  immediate  affairs  of  society 
and  on  its  adult  membership.  Our  influence  has 
40 


SHRIVING  AN  INARTISTIC  TEACHER 

to  wait  a  generation  for  children  to  grow  up; 
meanwhile  the  conditions  have  changed;  other 
types  of  leaders  than  teachers  are  doing  things; 
and  the  teacher's  influence  is  hard  to  trace.  No 
doubt  it  is  there  in  some  form. 

The  reason 

^  Why  are  we  not  more  influential  socially? 
Mainly  because  we  have  the  defects  of  our  quali- 
ties. Our  work  is  surrounded  by  certain  condi- 
tions and  engenders  certain  habits  that  mainly 
preclude  social  influence  and  leadership  in  social 
reform.^  We  do  not  see  ourselves  as  others  see  us; 
if  we  did  we  might  realize  that  our  art  does  not 
count  for  more  in  society  because  we  are  often 
poor  artists.  The  schoolmaster,  the  schoolmis- 
tress, have  become  literary  t3T)es,  easily  subject 
to  caricature,  usually  pictured  as  without  par- 
ticular social  esteem,  wearing  unique  garments, 
and  having  characteristic  features  and  expres- 
sion. Some  people  say  they  can  tell  a  school- 
teacher on  sight  and,  if  they  have  the  option, 

*  Cf.  G.  S.  Hall,  "Certain  Degenerative  Tendencies  among 
Teachers,"  Fed.  Setn.,  vol.  xn,  pp.  454-63. 

41 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

they  go  the  other  way.  "What  shall  we  do  with 
our  college  professors?"  is  a  newspaper  witti- 
cism. A  Virginia  gentleman  was  to  meet  Booker 
T.  Washington  for  the  first  time.  He  deliberated 
within  himself  as  to  how  he  should  address  him. 
"Booker"  would  be  too  familiar.  "Mr."  would 
be  too  formal.  "Professor"  was  the  correct  solu- 
tion. This  dubious  title  fits  shoe-black,  dancing- 
master,  tonsorial  artist,  or  college  teacher.  One 
may  rise  from  our  ranks  to  be  Governor  of  a  State 
or  President  of  a  Nation,  but  when  being  criti- 
cized he  cannot  escape  being  dubbed  "Profes- 
sor." So  we  are  not  the  leaders  in  social  progress 
that  we  might  be.  As  a  profession  we  seem  to  be 
largely  out  of  touch  with  the  temper  and  the 
progress  of  the  times.  Ours  are  the  virtues  of 
imitation  rather  than  initiation.  Others  lead,  we 
follow  afar  off.  We  seem  to  be  taking  our  orders 
from  the  dead  lips  of  past  generations  instead  of 
speaking  new  forms  of  hfe  into  being.  We  seem 
to  be  so  busy  conserving  the  rudiments  of  learn- 
ing that  we  are  not  thinking  and  acting.  As 
artists  we  would  fashion  immature  hfe  while  we 
ourselves  are  not  abreast  of  mature  Hfe. 
42 


SHRIVING  AN  INARTISTIC  TEACHER 

Self-criticism  necessary 

Let  us  at  least  not  have  the  fault  of  being  blind 
to  our  own  faults.  At  the  same  time,  in  reviewing 
our  faults,  let  us  not  exemplify  the  fault  of  fault- 
finding. Our  purpose  is  only  to  examine  ourselves 
whether  these  things  be  so,  that  we  may  intelli- 
gently correct  our  weaknesses,  and  so  make  prog- 
ress toward  our  artistic  ideals  and  toward  a 
corresponding  social  influence. 

As  I  review  my  pedagogic  sins  for  confession, 
they  mount  up  to  the  deadly  seven,  as  follows: 
pedantry,  didacticism,  methodastry  (there  is  no 
such  word,  but  you  see,  or  will  see  what  I  mean), 
traditionalism,  the  omniscient  air,  gratuitous 
discipline,  and  academicism.  I  admit  that,  if  the 
sins  are  as  bad  as  their  names,  my  conscience 
must  be  either  callous  or  heavily  burdened.  Per- 
haps before  launching  into  a  detailed  confession, 
once  again  I  had  better  crave  the  pardon  of  all 
members  of  our  class  in  proportion  as  they  feel 
themselves  not  guilty. 


43 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST/ 

Pedantry 

First,  are  we  not  in  a  measure  pedantic?  The 
pedant  substitutes  knowledge  for  wisdom.  And 
the  knowledge  he  has  is  without  perspective.  He 
has  little  sense  of  the  relative  value  of  different 
pieces  of  knowledge.  The  knowledge  that  makes 
no  difference  is  pedantry,  the  knowledge  that 
guides  life  is  wisdom.  Pedantry  is  a  parade  of 
intellectual  wares;  wisdom  is  knowing  what  is 
best  to  do  and  doing  it.  Montaigne's  essay  on 
"Pedantry"  is  still  modern.  He  says:  "We  can 
become  learned  by  other  men's  learning,  but  we 
can  become  wise  only  by  our  own  wisdom." 
One  way  to  avoid  pedantry  is  to  consider  con- 
stantly the  uses  to  which  knowledge  may  be  put. 

Didacticism 

As  a  class  have  we  not  the  didactic  habit  to 
excess?  It  follows  us  out  of  the  schoolroom.  We 
do  not  relax  enough  ourselves,  we  do  not  help 
others  to  relax  enough.  We  criticize  our  amuse- 
ments. Instead  of  letting  ourselves  go  at  times, 
we  inquire  rather  concerning  the  educative  bene- 
fits of  any  undertaking.  I  am  conscious  of  effort 
44 


SHRIVING  AN  INARTISTIC  TEACHER 

in  trying  to  forget  at  times  that  I  am  a  teacher 
and  read  with  a  smitten  conscience  such  a  state- 
ment as  the  following  from  a  clever  article: 
"What  man  or  woman  of  culture  is  so  foolish  as 
to  seek  the  society  of  the  average  school-teacher, 
either  for  relaxation  or  entertainment?"  ^  Think 
of  people  avoiding  us  because  they  do  not  want 
to  be  taught;  it  is  enough.  I  must  try  to  leave  the 
didactic  habit  behind  me  in  the  schoolroom,  like 
a  garment,  and  go  forth  into  the  world  of  human 
beings  as  a  human  being.  If  we  could  just  be 
pupils  when  we  are  not  teaching!  Let  us  learn 
from  those  we  meet,  instead  of  seeming  to  insist 
that  they  learn  from  us. 

Methodastry 

Even  in  the  schoolroom  do  we  not  also  sin 
against  artistic  ideals  by  attaching  a  fictitious  im- 
portance to  method?  Not  that  we  can  dispense 
with  method,  but  that  we  cannot  rely  mainly 
upon  it;  not  that  method  is  unimportant,  but 

1  The  Point  of  View:  "Confessions  of  a  Pedagogue," 
Scribner's,  April,  1908.  This  article  refers  to  five  of  the  seven 
faults  here  confessed. 

45 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

that  it  is  not  most  important.  We  tend  too  often 
to  serve  rather  than  to  use  method.  This  is  to 
worship  what  we  ourselves,  or  others  like  us, 
have  made.  Our  devotion  to  method  tends  to 
make  our  work  mechanical  instead  of  vital.  A 
mechanical  procedure  runs  off  in  a  foreordained 
kind  of  way,  being  incapable  of  adjusting  itself 
readily  at  each  point  to  the  needs  of  a  situation. 
It  puts  routine  into  work.  Methods  we  must 
indeed  have,  but  as  servants,  not  as  masters. 
We  must  know  enough  not  to  follow  the  set 
method  under  certain  circumstances,  to  vary  it 
according  to  need,  to  meet  the  situation  in  the 
best  way  as  it  arises,  to  have  versatility,  ingenu- 
ity, and  individuaUty  in  our  work.  If  we  can  keep 
ourselves  vital  under  school  conditions,  we  can 
more  readily  be  vital  members  of  society.  If  we 
can  eliminate  all  artifice  and  unreality  from  our 
labor,  perhaps  we  can  be  more  himaan  and  natu- 
ral in  our  other  associations. 

TradiHonalisfn 

As  a  class  are  we  not  in  bondage  to  tradition? 
We  are  among  the  conservative  members  of  so- 
46 


SHRIVING  AN  INARTISTIC  TEACHER 

ciety.  We  teach  what  is  known,  the  present  and 
the  past,  mainly  the  past.  The  goal  toward 
which  we  are,  or  ought  to  be,  moving  rarely 
comes  within  our  ken.  We  have  not  awakened  to 
our  work  as  a  great  constructive  effort  to  shap)e 
developing  human  society  toward  its  true  goal. 
Instead,  we  hand  down  traditional  knowledge 
and  socially  standardized  viewpoints.  The  school 
does  not  lead  social  progress,  it  hardly  keeps  up 
with  it.  It  ought  to  be  developing  social  leader- 
ship and  not  merely  conservative  following.  We 
should  communicate,  not  merely  established 
knowledge,  but  also  ideas  regarding  the  end  and 
means  of  social  progress.  Society  requires  guid- 
ance as  well  as  information. 

Along  with  our  traditionalism  goes  our  lack  of 
personal  growth.  Are  we  not  rather  unprogres- 
sive  in  self-culture?  We  know  fairly  what  we 
have  to  teach,  and  there  too  often  we  stop.  If 
promotion  and  increased  salary  depend  upon 
study,  we  are  more  able  to  study.  We  teach 
rather  from  an  accimiulated  store  than  from  a 
growing  acquisition.  We  sometimes  retain  old 
familiar  texts  instead  of  changing  to  newer  and 
47 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

better  ones.  Our  ambition  is  bounded  rather  by 
our  necessity  than  by  our  capacity.  We  know 
enough  to  teach  our  classes,  why  study  any  more 
at  all?  We  lack  too  often  the  conception  of  a 
personal  growth  that  is  unending  and  worth 
while  for  its  own  sake.  We  lack  too  often  the 
conception  of  merit  independent  of  salary.  Life 
to  us  is  rather  static  than  dynamic.  Surrounded 
by  growing  life  and  vitality,  we  have  almost 
ceased  to  grow  ourselves.  We  can  not  move  soci- 
ety because  we  are  not  moving  enough  ourselves. 

The  omniscient  air 

As  a  class  are  we  not  more  conscious  of  our 
knowledge  than  of  our  ignorance?  The  known 
we  emphasize  and  communicate;  the  unknown, 
which  is  far  vaster,  we  scarcely  realize.  Pupils 
get  from  us  too  often  the  impression  that  we 
know  it  all  and  that  there  isn't  much  left  of 
value  that  is  unknown.  We  assume  that  we  know 
because  we  are  supposed  to  know.  We  are  afraid 
for  some  reason  to  show  or  confess  our  ignorance. 
Even  a  mistake  of  our  own  we  are  ashamed  to 
confess  and  correct.  We  fear  loss  of  respect  from 

48 


SHRIVING  AN  INARTISTIC  TEACHER 

our  pupils.  We  have  made  the  dreadful  mistake 
of  trying  to  live  up  to  the  reputation  of  being 
encyclopaedic.  Intellectual  modesty  is  a  fitting 
virtue  in  our  world  for  even  the  wisest  man.  Our 
pupils  would  get  more  from  us  if  we  taught  them 
less  from  our  store  and  learned  with  them  more. 

Gratuitous  discipline 

Again,  we  tend  to  maintain  a  kind  of  gratui- 
tous discipline  among  our  pupils.  Our  rules  for 
order  are  based,  not  so  much  on  moral  principle 
as  on  what  is  convenient  or  not  annoying  to  our- 
selves. Thus  we  keep  pupils  quiet,  though  work 
should  sometimes  mean  noise.  Thus  we  keep 
them  motionless  when  bodily  activity  is  good  for 
thinking,  morality,  and  health  alike.  Being  often 
nervous  ourselves,  we  force  a  regimen  on  them 
that  tends  to  make  them  nervous.  The  discipline 
and  order  we  maintain  are  likely  to  be  based  on 
our  authority  rather  than  on  a  sweet  and  univer- 
sal reason.  We  even  go  the  length  at  times  of 
denying  our  pupils  the  freedom  they  need  be- 
cause it  disturbs  us.  We  make  ourselves  too 
much  the  center  around  which  the  class  revolves 
49 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

as  a  satellite.  We  fail  as  artists  because  we  do 
not  develop  freedom,  initiative,  spontaneity,  and 
self-expression.  Not  being  as  complete  person- 
alities ourselves  as  we  should  be,  we  make  our 
pupils  into  our  own  image.  Until  we  become 
better  artists,  we  cannot  shape  life  artistically. 

Academicism 

Perhaps  the  nadir  of  our  weakness  is  that  we 
are  so  exclusively  academic.  We  move  in  a 
realm  too  apart  from  life.  The  world  sweeps  too 
much  by,  too  little  through,  our  schoolroom.  We 
are  safely  isolated,  insulated,  within  our  four 
walls,  if  we  will  it  so.  Life  is  something  we  are 
supposed  to  prepare  pupils  for;  it  comes  later. 
This  we  do,  not  so  much  by  living  as  by  talking. 
We  spend  our  pupils'  time  not  so  much  in  doing 
things  as  in  saying  how  they  should  be  done.  A 
child  is  taught  to  say  the  table  of  cubic  measure 
but  he  cannot  measure  a  pile  of  wood  with  a 
yardstick.  We  have  something  we  call  a  curricu- 
lum that  children  have  to  study;  it  is  well-named, 
"a  little  race-course"  around  which  we  usually 
drive  them  at  top  speed  out  of  sight  of  the  world. 
SO 


SHRIVING  AN  INARTISTIC  TEACHER 

The  antidote  for  academicism  is  vitalism,  the 
living  touch.  The  curriculum  should  interpret 
life  with  a  view  to  its  improvement.  The  school 
should  itself  be  a  miniature  of  the  ideal  society. 

Thus  at  length  my  confession  is  ended.  These 
are  faults  enough,  if  not  exaggerated,  sadly  to 
handicap  the  influence  of  our  art.  Perhaps  the 
narration  of  the  faults  has  been  somewhat  over- 
drawn, as  one  truly  confessing  a  fault  is  likely  to 
magnify  it.  If  it  be  a  nightmare  here  depicted,  at 
least  may  it  awaken  us  from  our  lethargy,  and  so 
have  afflicted  our  souls  to  good  purpose. 

After  the  confession  the  assignment  of  pen- 
ance. How  shall  we  who  recognize  and  confess 
our  inartistic  defects  proceed  to  overcome  them? 
This  is  the  practical  question.  The  penance  will 
take  the  form  of  certain  specific  things  to  be  done. 
Some  of  these  have  been  hinted  at  in  the  course 
of  the  confession  itself.  The  register  of  the  pen- 
ance will  include  these  items:  the  winning  of  a 
wider  consciousness,  the  knowing  of  principles, 
cultivating  aesthetic  appreciation,  making  an  ar- 
tistic environment,  conmiunicating  a  personality, 
and  possessing  a  soul. 

51 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

The  wider  consciousness 

The  teachers  of  the  world  are  the  artificers  of 
life.  We  need  to  have,  as  Isaac  Watts  said  of 
John  Locke,  "a  soul  wide  as  the  sea,  calm  as 
night,  bright  as  day."  We  need  the  conception 
of  the  unity  and  goal  of  humanity.  We  must 
acquire  a  wider  consciousness,  one  that  is  inter- 
class,  interracial,  and  international  in  scope. 
With  such  a  consciousness  in  the  classroom  we 
can  become  leaders  in  making  individual  and 
social  living  that  divine  thing  of  peace  and  prog- 
ress, health  and  happiness,  labor  and  love,  jus- 
tice and  mercy  that  it  should  be  and  some  day 
will  be. 

Knowing  principles 

And  then,  as  regards  our  craft,  we  should  know 
more  thoroughly  and  apply  more  effectively  the 
principles  of  teaching  as  an  art  in  order  to  make 
it  a  fine  art.  As  Aristotle  says,^ 

.  .  .  Any  one  who  wishes  to  become  an  artist  in 
education  and  to  know  the  theory  of  it  must,  it  will 

*  Burnet,  Aristotle  on  Education,  p.  95.  Cambridge,  1905. 

52 


SHRIVING  AN  INARTISTIC^  TEACHER  1 

be  allowed,  betake  himself  to  the  universal  and  get 
to  know  it  as  far  as  that  may  be  possible.  And  no 
doubt  too  every  one  that  wishes  to  make  people  bet- 
ter, whether  they  be  few  or  many,  must  try  to  learn 
the  art  of  legislation,  seeing  that  it  is  only  through 
law  that  we  can  be  made  good.  To  produce  a  good 
disposition  in  any  given  subject  submitted  for  treat- 
ment is  not  in  the  power  of  anybody  and  everybody, 
but  only,  if  in  anybody's,  in  that  of  the  scientific 
educator. 

^Esthetic  appreciation 

We  should  learn  to  appreciate  the  works  of  fine 
art,  —  the  best  music,  literature,  sculpture, 
painting,  and  architecture.  Some  of  our  busy 
time  and  small  income  should  be  devoted  to 
these  greater  matters  of  the  soul,  with  a  view  not 
only  to  cultivating  our  own  aesthetic  sense,  but 
also  to  using  in  our  own  work  the  methods  of  the 
masters  of  art.  As  Herbart  says,^  "The  teacher 
should  by  all  means  study  literary  masterpieces 
for  the  purpose  of  learning  from  great  authors 
how  they  escaped  these  difl&culties  "  (in  securing 
attention). 

1  Herbart's  Outlines  of  Educational  Doctrine,  p.  66,  trans- 
lated by  Lange  and  De  Garmo.  New  York,  1909. 

53 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

Artistic  environment 

Beauty,  as  Plato  showed,  is  drawn  into  the 
soul  through  association  with  things  of  beauty. 
The  continuous  and  relatively  unconscious  in- 
fluence of  the  schoolhouse  must  refine  the  nature 
of  pupils.  We  must  accentuate  the  growing  ten- 
dency to  have  fine  architecture  in  the  school 
building  itself,  artistic  and  well-kept  school 
grounds,  handsomely  decorated  interiors  in 
halls,  corridors,  and  classrooms,  and  withal,  we 
must  show  in  our  own  appearance  some  evidence 
of  aesthetic  feeling. 

Transmission  of  personality 

Such  artistic  taste  and  personality  as  we  can 
by  effort  develop  in  ourselves,  we  must  transmit 
by  a  contagious  enthusiasm  to  our  pupils.  Not 
what  we  say,  nor  even  what  we  do,  but  what  we 
really  are  counts  for  most  in  the  aesthetic  as  well 
as  other  development  of  our  pupils. 

As  McLellan  and  Dewey  say:  ^ 

The  fundamental  principle  is  that  personality  com- 
municates itself,  that  there  is  developed  in  the  pupil 
*  Applied  Psychology,  p.  232. 
54 


SHRIVING  AN  INARTISTIC  TEACHER 

the  same  state  of  intellectual  and  moral  conscious- 
ness that  marks  the  teacher  ...  he  makes  an  attrac- 
tive subject  still  more  attractive;  he  invests  the  in- 
different with  newly  discovered  charms;  he  reveals 
an  element  of  beauty  even  in  what  was  dry  and 
harsh;  in  a  word,  he  makes  the  pupil  love  what  he 
himself  loves,  and  hate  what  he  hates.  .  .  .  The  de- 
spiser  of  classics  becomes  an  enthusiastic  student  of 
Homer  and  Virgil;  the  hater  of  mathematics  takes 
to  geometry  and  the  calculus;  and  the  unimaginative 
plodder  becomes  saturated  with  love  for  the  beauty 
and  strength  of  Milton  and  Shakespeare. 

This  statement  may  be  somewhat  unrestrained 
in  its  estimate  of  what  the  communication  of 
personality  may  accomplish.  The  quotation  to 
follow  is  speaking  to  the  same  point  but  in  a 
somewhat  more  judicious  and  discriminating 
way. 

The  New  York  Times  of  April  20, 191 1,  quoted 
in  its  editorial  column  the  following  from  the 
brilliant  French  critic,  Emile  Faguet:  — 

It  is  true  that  taste  is  incommunicable  and  that 
thinking  cannot  be  taught.  But  if  a  teacher  cannot 
teach  his  pupils  to  have  taste,  he  can  show  taste  in  the 

55 


THE  TEACHER  AS  ARTIST 

presence  of  a  hundred  of  them  and  excite  them  to  its 
attainment;  it  is  only  an  excitation,  but  it  may  be 
potent,  and  if  he  cannot  teach  them  thinking,  he  can 
think  in  their  presence  and  excite  them  to  think  for 
themselves,  and  it  is  only  an  excitation,  but  it  is 
vital. 

Such  teaching,  to  be  accurate,  is  not  teaching;  it  is 
intercourse;  it  consists  in  living  intellectually  with 
the  young,  who,  on  their  part,  are  living  intellectu- 
ally, and  whom  your  intellectual  life  arouses,  keeps 
curious  and  eager,  and  encourages.  That  is  all. 

Possession  of  soul 

And,  as  fashioners  of  the  future  America,  we 
must  rise  above  the  American  standard  of  haste, 
bustle,  and  speed.  Our  teaching  and  the  spiritual 
atmosphere  of  our  classrooms  too  easily  reflect 
the  prevailing  standards  of  American  life.  The 
school  exists,  not  so  much  to  conform  itself  to 
existing  society  as  to  transform  existing  society 
through  its  future  members  into  what  it  ought  to 
be.  In  the  classroom  those  standards  of  poise, 
self-control,  equilibrium,  and  patience  should 
prevail  in  relation  to  which  young  souls  may 
properly  grow,  and  which  are  so  conspicuously 
~  56 


SHRIVING  AN  INARTISiTIC  TEACHER 

lacking  from  American  society.  Things  of  beauty 
are  neither  created  nor  enjoyed  in  record-break- 
ing time,  but  the  spirit  of  leisure  and  free  spon- 
taneity characterizes  them.  This  does  not  mean 
that  we  are  to  be  inactive  when  we  should  be  at 
work,  but  it  means  that  the  spirit  of  self-control 
should  animate  even  our  busiest  days. 

In  these,  and  no  doubt  in  many  other  ways, 
put  upon  ourselves,  it  may  be,  in  the  form  of 
penance  for  inartistic  shortcomings,  we,  as  lovers 
of  our  profession,  must  help  raise  the  art  of 
teaching  to  the  dignity,  excellence,  majesty,  and 
joy  of  a  fine  art. 

It  remains  only  to  pronounce  the  word  of 
absolution  upon  ourselves,  who  see  our  faults, 
confess  them,  resolve  so  far  as  possible  to  turn 
from  them,  and  to  walk  more  nearly  in  the  way 
that  is  holy,  because  beautiful. 


REFERENCES 

Bailey,  H.  T.,  Art  Education,  chap,  viii,  "The 
Teacher  the  Chief  Factor."  Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 

Brown,  E.  E.,  Government  by  Influence,  chap,  xiv, 
"The  Art  of  the  Teacher."  Longmans,  Green  & 
Co.  1910. 

HowERTH,  I.  W.,  The  Art  of  Education,  pp.  21-25, 
and  chap,  xii,  "  The  Artist  Teacher."  The  Mac- 
Millan  Co.   191 2. 

Palmer,  G.  H.,  The  Ideal  Teacher.  Houghton  Mifflin 
Co. 

Richards,  Z.,  "The  Teacher  as  Artist,"  Proceed- 
ings, National  Education  Association,  1863,  pp. 
69-80. 

Slattery,  Margaret,  Living  Teachers.  Cleveland, 
1909. 


OUTLINE 

I.    IS  TEACHING  A  FINE  ART? 

1.  Teaching  as  a  physical  process i 

2.  Teaching  as  an  intellectual  process i 

3.  Teaching  as  a  personal  process 2 

4.  Is  teaching  also  an  aesthetic  process?      ....  2 

5.  De  Quincey's  Essay  on  Murder 3 

6.  The  nature  of  art .4 

7.  Unskilled  labor  and  art 4 

8.  Science  and  art 5 

9.  Nature  and  art 5 

10.  Colvin's  definition  of  art 6 

11.  Is  teaching  an  art? 7 

12.  Tufts'  definition  of  fine  art 8 

13.  The  characteristics  of  aesthetic  value      .    .    /    .    8 

14.  Teaching  as  having  aesthetic  value 13 

15.  The  characteristics  of  aesthetic  activity    .    .    .15 

16.  Lack  of  data 16 

17.  Six  characteristics  of  aesthetic  activity  .    .    .    .18 

a.  Spontaneity 18 

b.  Self-expression 19 

c.  Imagination 19 

61 


OUTLINE 

d.  Imitation  ,    .  , 20 

e.  Love 21 

/.  Self-relief 22 

18.  Teaching  as  an  aesthetic  activity 22 

19.  How  teaching  differs  from  the  other  fine  arts    .  24 

20.  The  nature  of  the  aesthetic  product 25 

21.  The  idealistic  philosophy  of  art 26 

a.  Plato  as  an  example 26 

22.  Modern  idealistic  philosophy  of  art  in  contrast 
with  Plato's 28 

23.  Summary       29 

24.  The  pragmatic  philosophy  of  art 29 

25.  Miss  Gordon  quoted 30 

26.  Which  is  the  true  theory? 30 

27.  "Art  for  art's  sake" 31 

28.  Art  for  Hfe's  sake 32 

29.  Walter  Pater  on  Plato 33 

30.  Final  view  of  the  aesthetic  product 33 

31.  Teaching  as  a  work  of  art 34 

32.  Miss  Slattery  quoted       34 

33.  Summary  of  the  whole  discussion 37 

34.  A  practical  question 38 


62. 


OUTLINE 

II.    THE  SHRIVING  OF  AN  INARTISTIC 
TEACHER 

1.  The  point  of  view       39 

2.  The  lapse  of  the  ideal 39 

3.  Our  small  influence 40 

4.  The  reason 41 

5.  Self-criticism  necessary 43 

6.  Pedantry       44 

7.  Didacticism        44 

8.  Methodastry 45 

9.  Traditionalism 46 

10.  The  omniscient  air     .    .    « 48 

11.  Gratuitous  discipline 49 

12.  Academicism 50 

13.  The  wider  consciousness 52 

14.  Knowing  principles 52 

15.  Esthetic  appreciation 53 

16.  Artistic  environment 54 

17.  Transmission  of  personality 54 

18.  Possession  of  soul 56 


YB  35365 


ONE  MONTH  USE 

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